Speak With Your Hands
by CyndarDragon
Summary: Sly gets a terrible fever which causes him to go deaf. With his new impairment, things get a little more difficult...and dangerous...
1. The Beginning

**Read, please!**

The raccoon was hunched over the table, his head resting on his hands. He was quiet and still, breathing slowly.

"Aha! I think I finally figured it out! Sly!" Bentley said, coming up to his friend. "Sly?" He shook the raccoon's back a little bit. His friend only sighed. "Are you awake?" Silence.

Murray stood up and walked over to them. He put a hand on the raccoon's back, saying, "Hey, buddy, are you awake?" He then wrapped an arm around his chest and picked him up bridal-style, carrying him over to a bed. He set his friend down on the bed, pulling a dark-green blanket over him. He took off the blue hat and set it aside over to the nearby end table. He stroked his friend a couple times on the head and walked back over to the turtle. "Out of all times, our nocturnal friend falls asleep…at night." Murray joked.

"He is practically nocturnal. Don't know how he can so long without sleep, though. And whenever h has an energy drink, he's literally bouncing off of the walls…whether he's tired or not."

"Never him an energy drink." Murray said.

Bentley was the only one who stayed up that night. Upon planning a heist, he couldn't help but notice that Sly was tossing and turning a lot, groaning in his sleep.

The turtle looked up from his papers, watching him turn over again. He instinctively knew that he was having a nightmare. He sighed, standing up. He walked over to the raccoon, putting a hand on the side of his furry face. "Sly, wake up. You're having a nightmare." To his surprise, Sly _did_ wake up, and with an abrupt scream, too.

"Bentley?" He said, sitting upright. He put his hands over his eyes, muttering something in French.

"Sly? Are you alright?" Bentley asked.

Sly moved his hands from his face, showing the tears running through his fur.

"Nightmare?" Bentley asked.

"Yeah…about Dad." He sniffled a bit. "I miss him."

"You're lucky you knew your parents. I never met mine."

"_Parent_ for me. I never met my mother. But I'm not lucky…you are. You don't have to cry over it."

"You don't either. I remember when you fist came to the orphanage, you wouldn't speak to any of us. Months and months rolled by, and the only thing you did was carry around your cane. Back then, you didn't cry because you were traumatized."

"But on the fourth month, I eventually excepted it…and then all I did was cry. But I had you guys, though. But I wonder…is my mother still out there? Or is she with my father? I just wish I knew…." Sly said with his head down low.

"Try to rest now…I'll be awake for a little while longer."

"Okay." The raccoon laid back down, pulling the sheets over him.

Bentley made his way over to the computer. He brought up Google, and typed in 'Cooper before Sly.' He hit the enter key, and there came up a file saying the exact words. He clicked on it, and then he read, 'The modern day Cooper's name is Sly, and when he's gone, and if he has no children, then the Coopers will be wiped out. He is the last, but whatever happened to his mother?' He got interested and continued reading it. However, it wasn't what he was looking for. For hours, he spent his time searching on to find out what Sly's mother's name was, but he never found it.

When the dawn broke, Bentley realized what time it was. He had spent the whole night searching for something that he never found.

"Bentley? You still up?" Sly said, stirring from his bed. His teeth were chattering along with a shaking body, but it wasn't col.

"Yeah…still up."

"Doing what?"

"Nothing. Are you feeing okay?"

"No…I feel sick…." Sly said, getting out of bed.

"Whoa, wait. Let me take your temperature first, buddy." As Bentley went into the back to get the thermometer, Sly said back down. His body was burning hot, yet outside, he felt cold.

Afterwards, Bentley saw that he had a fever of 106 degrees (Fahrenheit), which was dangerously high for a raccoon. One more degree up, and he would have to go to the emergency room.

"Murray! Get up!" Bentley said.

"What's the hurry?" Murray said, coming out with a large yawn.

"Sly has a fever of 106 degrees Fahrenheit. Fill the tub with cold water, quickly!"

The raccoon was lying in bed on his side, the blankets sprawled down at the end of the bed. Now that he was awake, the pain really struck him. His voice was sore, there was a constant ringing in his ears, he felt weak, and he as wheezing with every breath.

"Sly, can you hear me?" The turtle asked, shaking his friend. He got a groan as a response. "I need you to take off your shirt and your gloves." The raccoon didn't move. His wheezing was louder now.

Murray came in and picked up his friend, walking into the bathroom. He set him down, taking off his boots, gloves, and shirt. He picked him up again and set him down into the cold water. Sly yelped a bit at the sudden feeling, but then just laid there with his eyes closed. He was panting from the pain, and despite the cold water, he still felt extremely hot.

"Sly? Sly? How you holding up?" Bentley asked. He got no response, just breathing. "Sly? Can you hear me?" He reached over made his friend look at him. He started speaking, but all Sly saw was his mouth moving. He heard nothing.

Nothing at all.

**Interesting? Boring? Exciting? Neutral? Tell me what you think, please!**


	2. Sight

**Read, please!**

Three days had gone by, and Sly was just realizing that he was deaf, but it hadn't quite sunken in yet. He wasn't quite sure if he _really_ was, until he was facing the window one night. He was looking out to the night sky, unaware that Bentley was calling his name.

"Sly! SLY!" Bentley yelled, right behind his friend. "Sly? Can you hear me?" He walked over to a pan and a stirring spoon, raising it in the air. He beat against the pan, which would normally make Sly jump, but this time, he didn't move. He was completely unaware of the loud noise.

Bentley put the two items down, walking over to Sly. "Sly?" He put a hand on his friend's back. Sly jumped a bit, turning around to his friend. Sly had tears coming down from his face, showing that he was crying.

"Sly, if you can hear me, raise your right hand." Sly didn't raise his hand.

"I can't hear anything, Bentley." Sly said, now sobbing. "Nothing at all…I just hear silence…." He put his right hand up to his mouth, now crying loudly.

Murray came down the stairs. "What's all the noise about? Huh? Sly?" He questioned, coming up to the two of them. "Sly, are you okay?" Murray asked, concerned over his friend's tears. Sly never cries.

"Murray…Sly's deaf." Bentley informed.

**_____________________________________________________________________________________________________**

"Bentley, what time is it?" Sly asked. Bentley moved his hands and arms quickly, signing out 8:34 P.M.

"Oh, okay. Thanks." Sly said along with moving his hands. His voice sounded somewhat different now, changing because he doesn't know what he sounds like anymore.

"You ready?" Bentley asked along with his hands.

"Always am." Sly answered with a smile. He jumped down from his perch, swinging from a hook and onto the rooftop. '_Haven't seen Carmelita in a while,' _he thought to himself as he made his way in through a window. He walked down the hallways to his target; a large, priceless ruby, which had been wrongfully taken from India.

As he broke the glass and grabbed the ruby, he felt vibrations trough the floor. He turned around and saw Carmelita there, standing with her shock-pistol pointed at him. She said something, for Sly could feel the vibrations through the air and see her mouth move, but he didn't know what.

"Well, it's the lovely Carmelita." Sly said. "Don't bother speaking, I can't hear you anyway." The vibrations got louder as she started screaming at him. Sly sighed and put the ruby down. He then started speaking with his voice and hands. "Can you hear me? I CAN'T HEAR YOU!! I'm deaf, you see? I haven't seen you in a long time, you know. If you're about to ask how, I had a really bad fever, and it made me go deaf for some reason." He explained, now smirking at her. "Sooo…catch me if you can!" He grabbed the ruby an started running awake quickly, Carmelita right behind him.

"Stop! Thief!" Carmelita yelled, firing at him.

Sly jumped through a window, falling a good twenty feet to the ground. He landed easily. "Sorry Carmelita, but I've gotta go!" He said, running into the back of the van. The doors closed, and he screamed, "Floor it, Murray!" They started speeding away quickly, loosing the police.

"I got the ruby." Sly said, showing it to Bentley. Bentley used his hands to tell his hands to tell him, "Nice work, Sly!" Sly just smiled at him, handing the ruby to Bentley. Sly looked away for a moment, only to feel Bentley tap him on the shoulder. "You're bleeding." He signed, showing him the blood on the raccoon's right arm.

"Oh, crud…." He said, putting a hand over his wound.

"Hang on a moment; let me help." The turtle signed.

They had all gotten used to using their hands to speak. They learned Sign Language just for Sly, and they realized that they pretty much had to. Sly was getting frustrated with trying to understand what his friends were telling him before they knew Sign Language. One time he got so frustrated that he picked up a plate and threw it against the wall. It startled his friends, but he didn't really care at the moment. He just went down on his knees and wept.

Imagine what it's like to be talking to your friends, but whenever they talk back, you can't hear them. Sly tried to understand at first, but he only got more and more frustrated. It's different if you _born_ deaf, because then you don't know what it's like. But if you know what it's like, and you loose it, then that's harder. It's almost always easier to be born with a disability such as deafness or blindness. Murray was trying to speak to him one time, trying to explain things slowly. Sly couldn't catch on, and he got angry. He started hitting his friend, but still, Murray never backed down. Tears were forming in the raccoon's eyes as he started to calm down. Murray had just wrapped his arms around him, embracing his much frailer friend.

_That_ was when they decided to learn Sign Language and teach it to Sly. It wasn't too hard for him, but what _was_ hard was the depression afterwards. He eventually got over it, and went back to doing crimes.

Bentley put a cloth bandage around Sly's upper arm to prevent the bleeding caused by the glass. "Thanks, pal." He said, climbing into the passenger's seat.

"Don't mention it." Bentley said, adjusting some equipment around in the back.

In his silent world, he couldn't hear the music playing in the radio. He couldn't hear Murray speaking to Bentley. It couldn't really _speak_ to whoever may be driving, for it's rather difficult to drive _and_ do Sign Language at the same time. In fact, it's dangerous. He looked out of the window, watching the passing scenery. One thing that he was thankful for was the 'enhanced' sight. His sight had become much better, but he still missed the sounds of everyday things....

Everything for him was just so silent.

He felt Murray tap him on the shoulder. He looked over, watching the hippopotamus point back to Bentley. He looked behind, watching him move his hands.

"She didn't give me too much trouble, but she doesn't seem to understand…me…anymore." Sly said, sighing.

Upon walking back to the Safehouse, something caught him in the corner of his eye. He looked over out of the window, leaning out of it a bit. There was a man standing in a building across the street, looking at him. He was a raccoon as well, except…he looked like he had been dead for years. The fur was knotted wherever it was present, but the rest, he had no fur. The skin looked burned and looked as if it was about to fall apart, and the eyes? Well…he didn't see any eyes.

He blinked a couple times, but when he looked over again, the figure was gone. He shook his head for a bit, turning around. Somehow it looked like his father, but his father was dead. He _saw_ his father die. Oh, bloody that raccoon was. He had been laying motionless on the ground, not breathing, eyes open. His arms had been broken and he was bloody everywhere. He still has nightmares from that night….

He figured that he was just seeing things, and decided to go bed.

Instead of crawling underneath the covers, he just sat there, looking out of the window. He felt Murray walk into the room, but he didn't look over see him.

"I remember before my father died, when I was just eight years old, he told me that he would always be there for me. Whether he was dead or not, he would always be there to look over me and anyone who I cared for. Now I wonder…if he has been…."

**SUSPENSE!! Prepare to see the pure mortal side of Sly! Literally!! Maybe he was just seeing things O.o that'd be an odd thing to see, huh?**

**~CyndarDragon WOOT!!!**


	3. Florence, Italy

**You know what to do!!**

**By the way, whenever someone speaks to Sly and it's in italics. It's because their signing it instead.**

Sly woke up to an unwelcome vibrations. Something was rattling the floor, but he was only half-awake, and didn't move. Whatever it was, he put it's hand on his side, pressing down. He moved his arm, trying to make the hand move. He groaned a bit, putting his arm back. The figure kept it's hand on him.

Sly opened his eyes and what he saw was not a good thing.

He gasped in horror as he a bloodied raccoon standing over him. The fur and skin had been burnt, the figure was dead, yet…it was moving. Sly sat upright, watching the figure point out of the window behind him. Sly looked in the direction. It was pointing at a building. The figure grabbed onto his shoulder, which gave him the knowledge that he was not dreaming.

He screamed as loud as he could, which was pretty loud. The door to his room flung open light poured it. The figure disappeared, just vanishing. He stared in the spot where the figure was, clutching the mattress down below him. He was panting with fear, pressing himself against the wall. Murray and Bentley rushed over to him, asking him what was wrong. He didn't respond, for he was too stricken with fear.

"_Nightmare?" _Bentley asked. Sly just nodded his head, trying to calm himself down. He looked behind himself at the building. There was a man standing there; a tiger, dressed in a black suit looking at their building. He talking to someone.

"Guys, we gotta go." Sly said.

"_Why?"_ Bentley signed.

"There's a tiger over there looking at us. We gotta go."

"_Sly, if you had a nightmare, we understand, but I don't see anyone over there." _

"What?" Sly looked over. The man was gone. His heart started pounding again; he could feel the blood throb in his ears and his feet go cold. "We gotta go _now_." He demanded, getting out of bed. He grabbed his cane, ordering the others to get anything that they needed. He decided that they would drive down to Florence, Italy, just to get away from there.

Sly sat in the passenger's seat, thinking about what happened. If he _was_ dreaming, then why did that figure point over to danger? It seemed so real…he could _feel_ the cold hands on his shoulder. It seemed like it _had_ happened, but why? He just figured that he was dreaming, but it was odd because it was pointing out something potentially dangerous. He was still shaking a bit from the experience. There was this odd chill overcoming him.

About four hours into the drive, Sly fell asleep. He was rather peaceful there, just sitting and breathing. He had a dream about his father, except this time, he was alive. He had been smiling at him, saying, _"Carry on, my son."_

"_Dad?" Sly said, looking at him. "I can hear you!"_

"_Just me." He put his hands on his son's shoulder. Sly embraced him so tightly that he felt his muscles ache. His father hugged back, listening to his son say,_

"_Don't ever leave me, please!"_

"_I never left, my son. I promise that I will always look over you and protect you when I must. There are things I know that you do not. Just carry on…don't be frightened when you see me, despite the appearance."_

"_Dad, wait; what are you talking about? We're right here together! We can be a father-and-son team! Don't leave me…please!" Sly pleaded._

"_I'm not leaving." He said._

Sly jolted awake. He yawned, stretching. "I don't like nightmares."

"Who does?" Bentley said, fumbling around with something.

About eleven hours into the drive, they arrived at Florence. They quickly got a hotel room, hoping that no one was following them.

"I'm tired…." Sly said, putting his bag on the bed. He flopped down, putting his arms behind his head.

"Surprised he's not hungry." Bentley said to Murray.

"Whenever that guy eats he only eats half of whatever it is."

"Sometimes it worries me." The turtle said, walking over to the raccoon. He tapped him on the side, but Sly flinched, signaling to him that he was ticklish there. The turtle smiled and started tickled his friend.

"Ah! Please! S-s-stop!" The raccoon laughed, squirming around. He curled into the fetal position, taking in a breath from laughing. He looked over with a wide smile.

"_You hungry?"_

"Yeah…a bit. Know a good place?"

"_We can look downtown."_

"Sounds good enough for me." He leapt upward.

They wound up going to an outdoor restaurant. It was a beautiful day; blue skies, little bit of clouds off in the distance, it was warm, and everyone was cheerful.

"_You need to eat more than that."_ Murray said.

"_No thanks."_ Sly signed, taking a forkful of salad from his plate.

"_Anorexic."_

"_Am not!"_

"_Are too." _Bentley said.

"_Am not! Well…maybe…"_ Sly signed, laughing.

Sly nearly missed a familiar fox walk right by him. He nearly screamed when he saw her, then he kept a low profile. It's a good thing he was wearing blue jeans a short-sleeved green shirt, otherwise she may have recognized him.

Then she came back.

"Oh shit, she's coming back." Sly muttered. "It's Carmelita."

"Sorry, I don't mean to stare or anything…." She said. "You just look…familiar."

"Uh, sorry, ma'am…" Bentley said. "He's a deaf-mute."

"Oh…I'm terribly sorry…." She said, eyeing Sly oddly. Sly just did the same, looking at her funnily.

"Is there something we could do for you, ma'am?" Murray asked in a fake voice.

"No, thanks…he just looked like someone who I know. I hate him."

"What's his name?"

"Sly Cooper. He's a thief. Sorry to disturb." She then walked away.

Sly sighed with relief, finishing the rest of his salad.

"_Close one."_ Murray said.

"_We have no clue. What did she say?"_

"_She said that you looked like someone she knows."_

"_Oh. What did you tell her?"_

"_I told her that you were a deaf-mute."_ Murray finished. Sly sighed and looked up to the sky. A flock of pigeons was flying overhead. He put his hands on the back of his head, staring at the blue sky.

They started walking around Florence a bit, Sly, being the slight kleptomaniac that he is, was eyeing a couple stores. He showed restraint by not going in, but he had a feeling that something bad was going to happen. It was like someone was telling him….

"Guys, we should get going that way." Sly said, walking in the opposite direction. "Wait…why did I just do that?" He muttered to himself, though he could only feel his voice. Bentley and Murray followed, both asking why. "I have a feeling that something bad is going to happen. He looked over his shoulder and saw Carmelita standing with a man in front of a building. "That's weird…." He whispered to himself.

He felt a hand on his shoulder again. Sly briskly wheeled around, meeting with the face of a tiger. He was wearing a black suit, and began talking to him. "Sir, I don't know what you're saying…." He said. The man started yelling. Sly turned his head around and saw Bentley and Murray arguing with someone.

The tiger grabbed onto his snout. His hands were rough, covered in calluses underneath the short orange fur. He knew that his voice had been raised quick a bit, but he just kept on shaking his head, telling him that he can't hear him. He was surprised when he felt a strong force hit him in the side of the face. His head was forced off to the side as the man's fists remained clenched. The skin on the cat's face was snarling as he was screaming at him, exposing his white teeth. This tiger wasn't going to listen, so Sly did the only thing he thought of; a person's 'distress' call.

Sly screamed and squirmed around, trying to get out of the tiger's grasp. He was screaming for help, and nearby bystanders came. They pried the tiger away from the raccoon, restraining him. The man was frantically trying to get away, but he was overpowered by the people, and was forced to back down.

Sly saw Carmelita coming, and he started speaking his hands to her. She walked over to him, not understanding. He just pointed to the tiger. Everyone stopped moving at looked over at the man in the black suit. They were staring at each other. Carmelita gently grabbed onto Sly's arm, slowly pulling him away from the scene.

"_What was that about?"_ Bentley asked to Sly.

"_I don't know, but he looked like the same man who was in the window across the street of the building that we were in last night."_

"_Do you think he knows who you are?"_

"_Did he ask?"_

"_No, but he screaming at you to tell him your name. I told him you were deaf, but he didn't believe me, and he hit you. Then he was asking why you weren't answering him. I kept on telling him…but he never believed."_

"_That beardless dog…who does he think he is?"_

"_He must be with Interpol."_

"Are you alright?" Carmelita asked.

"He'll be fine." Bentley answered.

Sly looked behind himself one more time at the tiger. He gave him a death glare.

**Alright, now THAT was pathetic. One of the worst chapters I've ever done, but hey…I've done worse.**

**Review if you want. Or flame, doesn't matter much. Or does it?!?!?!**


	4. Ghost

**Hi, now read, please!**

Sly was tossing and turning in his bed, tangling himself in the sheets. He was groaning and mumbling incoherent things to himself in his sleep, constantly tossing back and forth. He rolled over onto his underside, his head still on the pillow. His right hand was clutching the blankets so hard that his veins were showing through his skin. Tears were running down his face and his was breathing erratically.

_His father was fighting back with all his might, but the giant hands grabbed him around the lower chest. There was a terrible crack and gasp, a red liquid falling to the floor. The hands let go, letting the raccoon fall to the ground. The humorous bone in his right arm had been snapped in half. His radius and ulna were broken in his left arm. His ribs were broken in all different directions. Blood was gushing out of his mouth, covering his thin body. His eyes were staring lifeless at the ceiling. The other figures left._

_The small one stayed, huddled in the closest, waiting or his father to move. The chest was not moving, nor was any other muscle. "DAD!" He screamed, wanting to get out of the closest to his father's side, but he could not._

_The dead raccoon must have pushed a little bit of life back in, for he moved his head and stared at his son. He took in a wheezing breath, saying, "Moscow…Moscow…Moscow…."_

_The figure in the closest wanted to say something, but he could not. The dead raccoon moved back into the original position; staring upwards t the ceiling._

Sly screamed, jolting upright. He fumbled around quickly for the light, briskly turning it on. His fur and hair was a mess and he was panting from the fear.

Murray came out from the other room, rushing to his side. Sly remained sitting on the bed with a look of utter horror on his face. His friend sat down next to him, putting an arm around him. Sly hugged him tightly, putting his head on his chest, now crying. "I don't want him to go…." Sly muttered. He was anticipating that Murray would ask 'Who?', so he said, "Dad…Papa…he knows that something bad is going to happen and he's directing out of it's way…please…don't leave…." He took in a gasp, filling his lungs with much-needed air.

He remained hanging onto his friend, looking out to the blowing curtains of the window. The wind was making them move. Lightning flashed for a moment, and Sly saw the figure of a bloody, dead raccoon resembling his father. He arms were broken in the same position, and he as staring at the two.

Sly screamed loudly and held onto his friend tighter. Murray looked over at what he was screaming at, but when the curtains moved, he only saw the wall.

"_Sly, it's okay. Nothing's there--"_

"No, something's there! Please, you have to believe me! There's something there!" Murray gently lifted the raccoon's arms off of him. He stood up and walked over to the window, pulling both of the curtains aside. There was nothing there but just the wall.

"_What did you see?"_

"It was my d-d-dad…he was j-j-just s-s-standing there…" He stuttered. "Even his arms were b-b-b…b-broken…you have t-t…t-to believe me!" He was pleading now. Murray sighed and picked up his friend like how someone would pick up a dog. He walked into his room, putting the raccoon on the bed. He then walked away to the other bed and shook Bentley awake. Once he was awake, they started talking.

"Though it pains me to say this, but I think he's crazy." Murray said.

"So he _saw_ his dead father standing in the curtains?"

"Yeah, that's what he told me. He's really freaked out."

"Maybe we should just let him rest a little while." The turtle suggested.

"Bentley, this has been going on for a little while now."

"Relax, I have sedation serum if we ever have to use it. But for now, let's just let him be."

"Okay…whatever you say…but he's sleeping with you. He's too freaked out to go back." Murray said, picking up his friend again and setting him down on Bentley's bed. The poor thing was shaking like a leaf.

"_You okay, Sly?"_ He shook his head side-to-side, crawling underneath the covers. Bentley sighed and turned around, closing his heavy eyelids.

A couple hours later, he woke up to hearing Sly scream again. The bed moved violently as he scrambled backwards. "He's right there!" He yelled. Bentley turned on the light along with Murray, but once the lights turned on, the figure disappeared. Sly was panting again, pressing his back against the wall.

"Sly! SLY!" Bentley yelled, grabbing onto his friend's arms. Sly remained looking in the same direction. Bentley let go and signed,

"_Sly, you're seeing things! There's nothing there!"_

"No, there's something there! You have to believe me! It was Dad!"

"_Sly, your father is dead! He's not coming back."_

"Yes, he is dead, I know that! But he's trying to tell us something! I swear it!"

Murray stood up and walked over as Bentley got up and walked over to his bag. Murray gently stroked the raccoon on the back of the head, making him settle down a bit so that he was laying on his back. He calmed his breathing and closed his eyes, swallowing a bit. He slowly opened them again, looking over to the window. The curtains moved again, flowing with the breeze of the night. Yet again, he saw the dead raccoon standing eerily in the curtains, staring right at him in the eyes. He was trapped in the gaze, nearly immobilizing him.

His neck muscles tensed and pressed his head hard down onto the pillow. He tried to say something, but he could not.

Murray looked in the direction that his friend was staring, but he did not see what he was looking at.

"You have to tell me that you see him…please…." He managed to say, looking in horror over to the window. Then his turtle friend came into view, a syringe needle in hand. "No, wait!" Sly yelled, thrashing around, trying to get out of Murray's grip. "Please! Don't!" He kicked his feet, trying to get his right hand free. It was useless, for he was restrained down tightly. He felt the needle go underneath his skin and into his veins on his right arm. He felt it being injected despite himself thrashing around.

He gave up when the sedation was completely into his bloodstream. Tears were quickly escaping his eyes, flowing down his cheeks and onto the pillow. He tried to make himself breathe heavily, but he found it nearly impossible. "Please…I beg of you…wait…." His breathing slowed down and his muscles released their tension. He started feeling more and more relaxed, and then his eyelids were forced to close. He went into a deep blackness.

"Okay, I heavily sedated him. He should be out for a couple hours or so." Bentley informed, throwing the syringe out.

**Poor Sly! No one believes him!**

**Review, please!**


	5. The Journey Begins

Slylady345;

Thank you so much for your support! You're like…my favorite reviewer now! Thank you for all of the nice comments!

Alright, here's the story now!

Sly woke up, finding himself in the back of the van. He was laying down on the bed that was strapped to the wall so that it wouldn't move much. He had a soft blanket over him, gently vibrating as the van went over the road that seemed to have gone on as long as the eye could see.

He roused a bit, stirring from his sleep. The last bit of the sedation was almost out of his head, allowing him to feel a little more awake. His eyes felt like they had sand pricking them, nearly screaming at him to close them. He fought off the feeling, and looked at Bentley. "Where are we going?"

Bentley spelled out 'Paris' with his hands.

"No, we have to go to Moscow…Dad said so."

"_No, we're going back to Paris."_

"How long have I been asleep?"

"_About four hours; a little less."_ Sly sighed, looking around the van. It was a little hard for him to believe that Bentley just sedated him, but he understood that his friends just weren't comprehending. It was frustrating beyond belief. Now he was wishing that his father would do something physical to him, to prove to them that he's not crazy. But now he's beginning to doubt himself. Maybe he _does_ have some…problem.

"What are we going to do there?"

"_Live."_ Bentley said plainly. _"Look, Sly, we know that you've been having a rough two years, but your father is not coming back. Just face it. You've been seeing things."_

"But I _felt_ him, though! He grabbed onto my shoulder and…"

"_Sly…please just…stop. Please."_ Sly was silent for a while. They just stared at each other for a long time. Sly sighed and laid back down. He _knew_ that that was his father, trying to tell him _something,_ trying to direct them away from something. He as telling him to go to Moscow, but his friends weren't listening. Now he could only brace himself for the worst.

Bentley walked over and was checking Sly's vital signs, making sure that the sedation did no harm. Everything was alright, and he left Sly along after that.

The raccoon stood up and sat down next to Bentley. He asked to burrow the laptop, of which the turtle was reluctant at first, but then gave it to him. Sly then searched up his father, Conner Cooper. (A/N: I don't know if that's his actual name, I just read that it was.) Millions of articles came up on his father, which would easily be enough to overwhelm anyone.

He didn't find what he was looking for, and instead typed in 'ghosts.' He made sure that Bentley wasn't looking.

He started reading an article. It caught his interest, and he scrolled down a bit. What it said came of a slight shock to him. This is what he read:

_There are many incidents as to where parents die and their children live. There have been numerous reports of deceased beings coming back (or never leaving) and visiting the living. Here's an interesting report about a family. They went on a flight, but the plane crashed. The mother was killed instantly, but the father and daughter survived. Later, the father died of tuberculosis, leaving the daughter an orphan. She recorded down numerous sightings of her deceased parents visiting her in her room, and wrote them down in here diary._

_**April 24th**__**, 1956: Mama visited my room. She looked like she was burnt and was missing her eyes and her tail. Papa was with her, except he looked frozen and his mouth was open in a silent scream.**_

_**April 30**__**th**__**, 1956: Papa came alone. His arm was broken, but he was carrying a rose in his mouth. He was dripping wet as if he just crawled out of a lake. He was dressed in a cloak that was soaked, wrapped around his body in an uncomfortable way.**_

_**May 5**__**th**__**, 1956: Mama came alone. She was wearing a black dress and was holding onto a bouquet of bright-red roses. She pointed out my window and whispered 'kill' three times. The looked over in the direction and then looked back at her, but she was gone.**_

_**May 7**__**th**__**,1956: Both came today. They looked like how they usually did, and even sat on my bed. They were smiling, but then the smiles faded and they turned into an icy-cold, frozen, blue-and-white color. They started screaming, their backs broke, they fell to the ground. I watched in horror, but once I blinked my eyes, they were gone.**_

_**May 14**__**th**__**, 1956: Mama came with her hands fixed backwards and her tail missing. Her head was crooked and she remained looking burnt. I think that she must have died from the fire, but what is she doing here?**_

_**May 16**__**th**__**, 1956: Papa arrived. He was so cold that my eyelashes got frost on them and there was ice on the wall. He pointed out of the same window that Mama did, except this time, he whispered, "Kill…run…kill…run…." I wanted to scream, but instead, I hid underneath my covers. The blue auras and ice from him disappeared when I came back up. What does 'run kill' mean?**_

_The girl was put in a psycho-ward, being exchanged from nuthouse to nuthouse. She said that her parents continued visiting her, telling her to escape. She was later found dead in the bathroom, her killer being a man named…_

Sly wasn't interesting in the rest. He canceled out of the webpage and thought hard for a moment. His father was trying to figure out why his father wanted him to go to Moscow. Apparently, his father knows what'll happen in the future and he was trying to direct his still-living son out of harm's way, but how his son persuade his friends?

Sly gave the laptop back to Bentley and sat down on the strapped-in bed. He put his hands over his head and thought hard. He was going to brace himself for anything that would happen in Paris, no matter how bad it would be. He can't seem to change much now.

Upon walking into the old Safehouse, Sly had a bad feeling that something terrible was going to happen. He just put his packed bag away and looked outside to the land down below. It had just started getting dark again, and the moon was showing with the stars being very dim. He sighed, unaware that Bentley was speaking to Murray.

"I swear," The turtle said, "if that happens again, it's the hospital we go to. We can't keep on having this happen."

"But…" Murray started off. "…he wouldn't last too long in the psycho-ward!"

"He's _strong_, and if we must then we must. I'm sorry, but if this keeps going on, then I can't keep on drugging him. He'll stay with us for now, but if it continues, well then…I'm sorry, Murray. You just _have_ to understand."

"I…" He paused for a moment, looking over at the raccoon. "…I understand." He said, then walked away, hardly able to believe that his friend might actually be psychotic.

Sly waited until everyone was asleep. Once he was certain that they were, he quietly opened up the window, grabbing his cane. He jumped out of the window, silently closing it. He looked at his room one last time, then sprinted off across a wire. Moscow he was heading, but he felt like something was going to stop him. He ignored the feeling, which he shouldn't have, and continued running across rooftops.

About an hour later, he rested on top, gazing over the city. He was going to take his time escaping. He wasn't in much of a rush. Besides, it would probably take _weeks_ for him to travel to Moscow with a vehicle.

Upon passing to the next town past Paris, the bad feeling came back, except stronger this time. He stopped in his tracks across from a closed store, looking intently inside. He squinted a bit, then took a couple steps back. Someone was in there, and whatever it was, it was wading him off.

He felt a cold hand on his shoulder and briskly turned around, meeting the face of his father. This time he was completely his usually self: grey fur, grey hair, ringed tail, and black band around his eyes. He looked like he was alive, and was smiling warmly at his son.

Sly embraced the ghost tightly, actually _feeling_ him this time, and even more…_hearing_ him.

"My son." He said. Sly's ears perked right up.

"I can…I can hear!" He exclaimed, actually _hearing_ his own voice. The crickets were chirping to add even more of an effect.

"Only when I'm around, my son." His father said, looking at him in the eyes. "Enjoy it while it lasts." He kissed Sly on the side of the face. "What you read today was a true story. Now that you have left, avoid getting captured. They'll put you in a psycho-ward, and there would not be much that I could do. You were unaware of it, that your friends were talking about bringing you to a hospital."

"Wha…they…they were?"

"They didn't want to, but they won' t believe you that you can see me. Make your way to Moscow, for I cannot tell you what will happen there. Now, I will take my hand off of you, and your world will go silent once again." His father took his hand off of him, and everything went quiet again. His father smiled before disappearing, and once he left, the icy coldness that Sly felt went away and back to the usual summer warmness.

"Dad…." He said to himself. "You allowed me for a moment to hear something. Thank you." He sighed, then started walking forward. In his mind, he was picturing himself when he was six years old; two years before his father died. He would come back from school everyday and his father would always be there to welcome him. Not even his father's two friends, McSweeny and Dr. M, would be there, meaning that Sly always had his father all to himself. He surely did get a lot of attention from his father being an only child and having no mother, but then it was all taken away…all taken away in one night.

He kept on walking throughout the town, then the next, and the next. As the sun came up, it aided his sight. All the while, he was unaware of his friends panicking like an elephant startled by five mice. They had gone out in search for him, _convinced_ that he had a psychological disorder. All what they want to do is help their friend, and now they're beginning to panic.

**Sorry this one took so long to write. I started running out of ideas…plus I was gone for a while. So, hope you enjoyed! The next chapter will be **_**much**_** better, trust me.**

**~CyndarDragon WOOT!!!**


	6. Astral

**Please read the story underneath these words.**

**P.S. I don't own Sly Cooper, I just have the games. He's Sucker Punch's creation.**

It was probably around mid-dusk time, the sun in the process of setting. The moon appeared with several bright stars as the sky turned to a deep mixture of oranges, reds, and yellows. The clouds turned into shades of pinks and purples, adding to the various hues of the sky. Cool breezes swept over the land and buildings, giving an even more special affect to the singing birds as they made their last calls of the day. Didn't matter for Sly…only the sight mattered for him.

He sat aloft on a rooftop, looking out at the beautiful land. He hasn't seen his father in two days, but he knows that he will come back. That is…if he ever left in the first place. Either way, he'll see his father soon enough (maybe even hear him) and would like to see the look on his face once he reaches Moscow. His father wants him to walk their by foot, no car, no train or airplane…just those appendages attached to the bottom of the legs called feet.

Sly thought of it as a walkabout. The only differences was the lack of obstacles, but he didn't mind. That was something others can complain about.

He stood up and grabbed onto a poll, quickly climbing down the thin metal structure when no one was looking. He then made his way into the crowd of people, heading in the direction of Russia. The only problem though was that there obviously was no road going _directly_ to Russia same way how there's no random road going on forever in a straight line from Buenos Aires to Quebec. There'd be forests and mountains in the way, roads going _around_, and unless Sly wanted to get lost in the wilderness, he'd have to take several routes.

Ah well. This is a peaceful 5,700 mile walk. Almost like walking the width of the United States or Canada (excluding Alaska). Take a long time surely, but no rush is he in.

Now Bentley and Murray? They're a different story.

"You don't think he would have taken a plane, do you?" The turtle asked, overwhelmed with concern for his friend.

"He may have, but for now we'll just check the roads. I just don't want him getting hurt. I mean, what do we do without him? He's like…our best friend! We have to help him." Murray said as he changed gears in the van, getting up upon the highway. The engine hummed loudly as it sped up, then softened once it got used to the speed. The speedometer's orange needle stayed at 65 mph; a classic highway speed.

"Well, let's see here…he's got approximately 5, 564 miles to walk from Paris to Moscow…_about_…and he's walking for about two and a half days, meaning that he still has a _long_ way to go."

"So do we have enough time?"

"Oh, we've got _plenty_ of time. He's not moving too fast by foot." He said, typing away furiously at the computer. "My best guess is that he's in Brussels, the capitol of Belgium. It's about one-hundred and sixty-two miles from Paris, so maybe we should look their. Either way, we both know where he's going….so we'll catch up with him sooner or later."

They eventually made it to the capitol of Belgium, which took quite a few hours. They stopped in a four-star hotel, getting a good room and a place to keep the van for the night.

Upon walking inside, the interior was beautiful. It was elegantly hand-carved out of dark-brown wood, making the entrance look strikingly gorgeous and lodge-styled. They walked up to the front desk, talking with the lady their for a while.

Outside, Sly was shivering with his coat on. It had just gotten cold all of sudden since the sun just disappeared, awaking the moon. He walked in through the front doors of the hotel, the warmth of the front heaters swarming his fur gently. He took off his jacket once he got inside, walking over to the leather couches where a fire was burning the large, stone fireplace. There was a coffee table made plainly out of a wood, standing only by four small legs.

Sly was surprised and he felt a hand go on his shoulder. He turned around, seeing nothing there. Was that his father?

Suddenly, his mind was rushed by the sounds of the hotel. He could hear people talking, the fire crackling, people walking, and suit cases rattling against the floor. All of the silence was gone for the moment as he looked around from where he was sitting, slightly confused. "What is it, Dad?" he whispered softly to himself. "is that you?" He said, making sure that no one could hear him.

Then, he heard a voice that he could never mistake. It had a nasally sound to it, belonging to his old turtle friend. He turned around, seeing him standing there next to the hippopotamus that just so happened to be Murray. Sly turned around, facing the fire. His heartbeat turned powerful, allowing him to feel the throb in his fingers and feet easily. He heart the rush of blood in his ears and he realized that his two best friends finally caught up to him. He decided, since he was carrying his cane with him, that he would stay near the fireplace until they left. That way, the slightest bit of chance of them recognizing him would be ruined, keeping him safe for the moment.

"No, that won't be necessary…." He said to the lady.

"Alright then. Here's the keys, and enjoy your stay."

"Thank you very much, ma'am." Bentley said and started walking away with Murray. At least, that what Sly thought he heard. Instead, they came over to his position, sitting down on the dark leather couch next to his.

"_Oh shit."_ Sly thought to himself as he quickly put his jacket on, hiding part of his cane in there. He put his head down low, almost on his chest, pretending to be asleep. The hat that he was wearing was like a fisherman's hat, so maybe that part of the disguise would also help…maybe….

He listened to them talk for a bit, too afraid to stand up and walk away for the fear of them recognizing him. Too late for him to go out the front doors now.

Someone eventually came over to the two, saying, "The room is all set no. You two had excellent timing."

"Thank you, ma'am." The turtle said as he stood up, walking away with Murray now. Sly sighed relief and relaxed his muscles, thanking God very dearly. The invisible hand on his shoulder eventually slid itself off and his world went silent once more.

"I'm leaving in two minutes." He said to himself, rushing up to his room. He packed everything into his bag as quickly, not caring to fold the clothes. He then made his way downstairs, checking out of the hotel lobby.

Once he made it to the hotel register, he felt the hand go on his shoulder once more, allowing him to hear things temporarily. "One more night you not going to stay?" The lady behind the counter asked. She had a thick Dutch accent, mixing up the word order accidentally.

"No, sorry, I have to go _now."_ Sly insisted.

"Okay, let me get your name out of computer system." She informed. Once she was done typing, she said, "Alright, enjoy stay your Belgium in."

"Thank you." He said, briskly walking out of the hotel, adjusting his backpack a bit. The weight on his shoulder disappeared, and so did all sound. "Thanks, Dad." Sly said underneath his breath, smiling warmly as he closed his eyes. He walking down the road, continuing his journey. It's always good to get a head-start in this kind of situation.

"Okay, so they're right on my tail." The raccoon said to himself. "Why didn't you tell me earlier that they were going to be there?" He asked quietly, getting no response. "You know, it doesn't matter. We're on our way there anyway, right? With some luck they'll take a wrong turn." Still silence. Sly sighed in disappointment. He was hoping to have a conversation with his father, but instead he just got silence. He wasn't even sure if his father was _there._ He couldn't see him right now, unless if he's hiding in the shadows like some creepy Hollywood horror movie would do.

"_I wanted to see if you would notice them yourself."_

Sly stopped in his tracks. He heard his father but…through his mind, instead. He turned around for a moment, not seeing him there. "Dad? You there?" Still, he got nothing. He turned around again and continued walking, one hand on his backpack, the other on his cane.

As he walked past an alleyway, he felt strange vibrations in the ground. His whiskers told him that someone was screaming, which gave him the clue that someone was definitely in trouble. He turned over to the alleyway, watching three figures around a smaller one, threatening it with things that only looked like shadows.

He felt his anger drive him closer to the point where he was running towards the figures. He nearly pounced on one of them, using his cane to swipe the others aside. He soon found himself fighting three dark figures, but his cane had a sharp edge in the curve at the front. He stabbed his enemies until they backed down, afraid for their lives. They all looked at him, then ran away off out of sight. It was a short battle, but the victory could wait until later.

He turned around and found a small, red panda on the ground. She was probably around fifteen years old, about five feet and six inches tall, and was extremely thin. She looked almost exactly like a raccoon, except the stripes on the tail and band around the eyes were a reddish color and the rest of her fur was a pale cream. She looked frightened, but understood that the raccoon was there to help.

Sly helped her up on her feet, looking down at her. He decided to explain thing clearly.

"Don't bother speaking to me. I'm deaf, but can you mouth your name to me?" He asked. The girl hesitated, but then eventually mouthed the name 'Astral' to him.

"Astral? Is that right?" He asked. The girl nodded her head. Sly brought his hand up her cheek, which was bleeding rather badly. "Show me with your hands, how old are you?" She brought both of her hands up, then dropped the other. "Fifteen? That right?" She nodded her head again. "Okay, come with me. Where's your parents?" She just looked at them. "Well? Are they here? Where are they?" She pointed up to the sky. "They're…dead?" The small red panda nodded her head again. "Do you have _anywhere_ to go?" She shook her head side-to-side, her hands still together in worry. Sly sighed and thought for a moment. "Alright, come with me. I'll get a room in a hotel for you." The red panda smiled, hugging him gently.

**WOOT! OC now here! If anyone would like to give suggestions on her personality, then I'm willing to take them in! She can be mean, rude, aggressive, compassionate, kind, caring, silly, or a split personality! Any traits that you come up with, I'll give them to her!**


	7. The Spirit

**R&R please!**

**WOOT!!!**

"Okay, first things first. I'm deaf, so don't bother talking to me right now. If you want to get my attention, flag me down or something. Second; the moment I find a place for you to be, you better darn stay there. Third…" Sly stopped as she looked pathetically at him. The couch that she was sitting on was small and low, making her seem even smaller than what she already was. "…you're not looking so good." Sly said, eyeing her oddly.

The girl reached into her pocket and pulled out something that looked similar to a tooth…no, wait; it was a tusk. "Is that…is that a boar tusk?" Sly asked her, watching her nod her head up and down. "Why did you bring it you bring it out suddenly?"

"Because…it has powers." She said to him.

Sly's eyes widened with surprise as he discovered that he could hear her.

"Tell me, can you hear me?"

"Yes."

"Can you hear anything else?"

"No." Sly answered. Her voice was high-pitch, even for a girl. It was echoing as he listened to her speak.

"This boar tusk allows me to do many things. I can move items without even touching them. See?" She looked over at the TV remote, then somehow lifted it into the air. Sly blinked a couple of times, trying to understand if this was real or if he was just seeing things.

Astral dropped the object, noting the large 'CLUNK' afterwards.

Sly just looked at her, trying to think of something to say. He wasn't believing his eyes, but he _knew_ that she just did that.

"This also allows me to talk to those who can't hear, or have difficulty hearing. It also gives me the ability to see differently. Everything looked like ink in water with that other vision. It scares me." Astral said, not too much emotion on her face. Sly was thinking hard for a moment. "It speaks to me. It tells me that you are in great distress."

"As if that isn't evident enough." Sly said in a matter-of-fact voice.

"…she also tells me that you see ghosts."

Sly looked over at her.

**Meanwhile…**

"Hold on, I've tracked him down!" Bentley exclaimed.

"Where is he?"

"My tracking device says that his cane is at the next hotel…but I don't know _where_ in the hotel."

"Well…we'll just ask the people there. But…just because his _cane_ is there doesn't mean that _he_ is there."

"He almost always carries his cane with him, so my best guess is that we check the hotel. Thank goodness for my _Tammi ja kulta seuraaminen laitetta,_ or I never would have been able to find him. I just hope that he's at the hotel…it takes _hours_ for this stupid thing to work, and it only shows the general area. Come on, let's go check out the entire hotel."

They both walked out of the hotel room, making their way over to the hotel.

"So…you're saying that this 'spirit' has wings that can cloak you to make you invisible?"

"She only does it to protect me if there is danger."

"I…I don't understand though. How did you even meet her?"

"I carry her soul with me so that she'll never get lost. She finds comfort with me, and in return she protects me."

"But _how_ did you meet her?"

"I don't know. I was young. We've together forever. Always will be." There was a silence between them for a while. "She tells me that there danger behind the door."

"Danger?"

"Watch out." Astral disappeared suddenly, not even a trace of her there.

"What the? Astral?" Sly took a couple steps backwards. It looked like she had been…cloaked.

The door behind swung open, and Sly jumped so high in the air that it must have been at least a couple feet. It wasn't the sound that made him jump (obviously), I was the sudden vibrations through the ground and the air. He instinctively grabbed his cane, turning around to see his two friends there.

"Bentley? Murray?"

"_Sly, we don't want to hurt you." _Sly lowered his cane at Murray's signed words, despite Bentley pointing his dart gun at him. _"We just want to make sure you're alright."_ Sly felt himself calm down, his heartbeat getting slower now that he didn't feel as threatened.

"I'm…I'm alright. Why…why did you come here?"

"_We want to bring you back. We don't want you getting hurt. You're our buddy."_ Bentley signed.

For Sly, everything remained silent.

"No. I'm going to Moscow. Please, I beg out of you, _sil vous plait,_ don't try to stop me. _Please."_

"_Sly, we want to help you. We wa-"_

"You can help me if you let me do my own thing." He interrupted. "Please, don't force me to leave…not right now. You can come to Moscow if you want, but it's probably best that I go alone."

"_Sly Sylvester Cooper, we're going to bring you back. Just calm down, everything will be okay." _Bentley signed.

"No…I'll fight you if I must, and please, I _don't_ want to fight you."

"_You can't fight sedation, though."_

"It depends." Sly said, backing up, bringing his cane back into a fighting position. Where was Astral? Why wasn't she helping? Either way, it didn't matter. Sly's father started speaking to him.

"_Window…."_ He whispered in a dying tone. _"Windowww…!" _He screeched.

Sly looked behind himself, noticing the open window. Astral must have opened it for him, giving him a good chance to escape without getting tranquilized. He slowly backed away towards it, but Bentley noticed. In a rushed panic, the raccoon darted out of the way and towards the window. He heard a dart be fired, but it missed and hit the wall instead. He jumped through the open window and landed on a phone wire, but it broke. The phone wire then turned into a vine, making him glide through the air and into another building's windows. He crashed through, somersaulting on the ground until rushing down the stairs and out of the building.

Panicked, he ran down the street, pushing anyone in his way aside. He then saw Astral running in the same direction up ahead, dodging people. "Astral!" Sly yelled out, but she didn't stop running. "ASTRAL! Hey, stop that girl!" Sly yelled. Everyone looked in the direction he was running, but Astral wasn't there. Still, Sly ran and ran for hours until he was out of the city, onto a lone street. In the background were the lights of Brussels, and ahead it looked endless.

Sly was panting, slouching over, looking back at the city. When he turned around, he nearly jumped as he saw Astral there. "I told you there was danger."

"But…how…did you…know…?" Sly asked, still panting, sweating despite the colder weather.

"The Spirit told me. Come on, your father wants you to walk this road."

"My father? You can see him?"

"Yes. He is right behind you." Astral informed. Sly turned around ad saw his father standing there, not looking burnt, having all of his fur, yet his arms remained bloody and broken. His eyes were white and dried, though he was not blind and was perfectly capable of seeing things.

"Dad…." Sly said, reaching out a hand to him, touching the side of his father's face. He only blinked at him, then started walking forward. Sly and Astral soon followed.

It was a long walk, and it was cold, so to keep himself occupied, he started speaking to Astral. "So, what does this spirit look like?"

"Oh, you know…translucent body, waves of purples and pinks, white eyes, white, feathery, translucent wings, emits a white, holy light all the time…etc. She resembles a giant komodo dragon in many ways, except she's seven feet tall and her long legs come downward instead of starting off sideways. Plus her face is longer, and her neck is thinner. She has no loose skin because she's entirely light, of course, but she can feel me and I can feel her as if she's solid."

"Why can't I see her?"

"Because she doesn't want you to know what she looks like just yet. Give her time, don't worry. She'll come through."

"Then how can you see my father?"

"She allows me to. She's a very powerful spirit."

"Hm." Sly said, looking ahead on the road again. "Hey, Dad?" Sly said, looking up at his father. He glanced at his son for a moment, then forward again. "Why do I have to go to Moscow?" He got no answer. "Dad?"

He looked down at his son, staring at him this time. His only words were, "You'll see."

"Can you see Astral's spirit?"

"…yes, but she doesn't always come out. She'll only come out if she must protect Astral herself, hence why she 'disappeared' back in the hotel. The Spirit had come out, cloaking her with her wings. She pushed Astral over to the window, where she opened it for you to escape. The Spirit then grabbed gently hold of Astral, gliding down to he ground, making sure that she was invisible to everyone else by covering her with her body. Then I yelled _window_ to you, to tell you where to go. Astral's Spirit then lead you away to safety."

"So, I guess I owe you and this spirit a lot, huh?"

"Her name doesn't suit her. She prefers to just be called 'The Spirit.'"

"What's her name?" There was a pause for a moment.

"…Heliantha Skeerdreap." Astral answered.

"Who named her that?" Sly asked.

"She doesn't know. No one does."

"I think she should be Mary. She's a very holy spirit, and it would suit her to be named after Mother Mary."

A little longer into the walk, and they started talking about religion. The Spirit is so holy because she comes straight from an afterlife, though it isn't Heaven. She said that she went to a place called Rainbownia, a gift from someone who saw the purity in her species. When she reached Rainbownia, she spent a few years there…but then decided to help the mortal on Earth. She came down and found Astral, knowing that she had seen death, and even stared it in the face more than once.

It was carnage that Astral had seen.

The Spirit promised to protect Astral since she was constantly faced with the genocide happening in her isolated place. When she told others of The Spirit, no one believed her. Then, when her village was attacked, The Spirit cloaked her with her wings and carried away from Asia. Astral wouldn't ever have to see the horrors of carnage ever again.

The Spirit brought her to Europe. She remained keeping the promise to protect her and would often change things around areas so that Astral would have an easier time. Such as, say, a robber steals from an outdoor food market. While they're all going after the robber, Astral can easily grab what she needs. In return, Astral carried The Spirit with her wherever she went. The Spirit was now her guardian angel, and Astral was now her Carrier. She saved Astral's life, and she would remain to protect it until the day Astral died. Then, since Astral was The Spirit's friend, when she died, she and the Spirit would both go to Rainbownia; quite a rarity, actually, seeing as that most of The Spirit's species doesn't befriend others than their own (since they only meet their own).

So Astral was saved and The Spirit had a Carrier.

"Wow…so you're never going to leave each other, right?" Sly asked.

"Yes. We will never leave each other. She also wants me to tell you that the reason I speak the way I do, usually without any rise or lowering in my voice and in shorter sentences, is because I've remained traumatized. I've tried making the voice differ in sound range. It just does not work now."

"Well, there's nothing wrong with your speech…" Sly said, twirling his cane around like a color guard. "…but where did you get the boar tusk?"

"Boar tusk?" Astral inquired. "This is the shed tusk of a member of The Spirit's species. She claims it's special."

"What's her species? Look, I know that I ask a lot of questions, but--"

"One of the best ways of learning something is by asking, my son." Sly's father said.

"He is right. The Spirit does not wish of me to tell you the name of her species. She says that she wants to wait."

"Wait for what?"

"To know you entirely."

Everyone was silent for a while. Sly stopped twirling his cane, shivering a bit from the cold. The raccoon looked up to the sky. Stars, shining brightly like the millions of souls that were murdered when the carnage was happening to Astral's village. It wasn't just hers that had fallen…it was _everyone's._ Everyone, killed bloodily in a giant waste of life that the rest of the world still doesn't know about. If it weren't for The Spirit's wings that cloaked her, and if it weren't for The Spirit's arms that held her tight while she flew, Astral would have been one of those stars in the sky, and The Spirit would have a different Carrier.

Sly instinctively walked closer to Astral, her body giving off the much-desired warmth. Astral noticed and was about to lean up against him, but then she remembered that she doesn't lean up against anybody else but The Spirit, so she just wrapped an arm around her friend.

"It could take a while to get to the next town…." Sly said and closed his eyes, still walking forward with their pace.

**Sorry this chapter took so long. I have stupid Writer's Block…ugh. I'll see if I can make the next chapter quicker, okay?**

**~CyndarDragon**


End file.
